


Voyeur

by ChickadeeChick



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Multi, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickadeeChick/pseuds/ChickadeeChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger is the unintended witness to Rafa's post-Australian-Open-win surprise celebration.  This is not necessarily a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeur

**Author's Note:**

> It doesn't get any smuttier than this. Okay, well I am sure it could, but I haven't written any of it yet. Key word there is "yet."

The loud crash Roger heard as he left the showers, followed by frantic muffled voices, piqued his interest.  It was coming from Rafa’s side of the locker room, and while he had won the match, the Spaniard must have been exhausted… could he have collapsed?  What if he hurt himself?  
  
Towel wrapped about his waist, shower bag in hand, water running down his back, Roger made his way to the opposite side of the locker room.  Peering around a corner, Roger froze.  This was not at all what he expected, although he supposed that, at this rate, Rafa might get hurt.  
  
Two other Spaniards, Feliciano Lopez and Fernando Verdasco, must have been waiting for Rafa to get back, must have been watching the match on the TVs in the lounge down the hall.  Roger knew that Rafa had to have left the court after he did, and he seemed to not have made it very far.  
  
Fernando had his arms wrapped tightly around Rafa’s torso, Rafa’s back against his chest, his teeth on Rafa’s neck.  The champion’s shirt was in a pile at their feet, to which Feliciano soon added Rafa’s shorts and underwear.    
  
Feliciano, for his part, was on his knees in front of Rafa, hands spreading the thighs in front of him, lips pressed to Rafa’s abs, murmuring words in Spanish.  
  
Roger swallowed hard.  He knew he should move, leave, flee… flee as fast as his tired legs could carry him… but he couldn’t get that message from his brain to his muscles.  
  
Feliciano said something else, louder this time, looking up at his two friends.  Fernando chuckled, a dark sound, while all Rafa did was let his head roll back onto the shoulder behind him, a hoarse moan coming from his throat.  
  
Fernando’s voice was scolding in Rafa’s ear and a hand clamped over the young Spaniard’s mouth.  Feliciano looked up at them and laughed before returning his attention to the erect cock in front of him.  
  
It was no longer a secret how Rafa often reacted when he won a match.  And hell, if he had a reception like this waiting for him after every match he won, Roger would probably walk on court with a boner, not leave the court with one.  
  
There was movement from behind Rafa as Fernando fumbled with his own shorts, shimmying them down just to his knees.  Roger watched Feliciano pull a tube of lubricant from his pocket and hand it to his doubles partner.  Oh holy mother of god, where they really going to do what it looked like they were going to…  
  
Roger felt blood pool on his lip as he bit down on a moan; Fernando covered his hands with a generous amount of lube and moved it behind Rafa.  There was no question as to what was happening when Rafa stiffened, arching his back and hips, and pushing his cock into Feliciano’s waiting mouth.    
  
That had to be planned.  
Rafa’s moan was muffled by the hand clamped hard on his mouth; his nostrils flared as he started breathing harder.  Roger realized that he was breathing harder as well.  
  
Fernando guided one of Rafa’s thighs onto Feliciano’s shoulder, who brought his own hand up to steady the muscled thigh.  The angle actually allowed Roger to catch a glimpse of Fernando pushing himself into Rafa, who was now emitting muffled curses under his makeshift muzzle.  
  
Fernando bit down on Rafa’s shoulder, quieting his own noises.  He paused for a moment before he started to move his hips.  Swaying with the movement of both bodies in front of him, Feliciano hollowed his cheeks and Rafa arched again.  Fernando’s free hand dug into Rafa’s hip, pulling him back and away from Feliciano, and causing the young Spaniard to whimper.    
  
The sex was sweaty, fast, and hard.  It took Roger a moment to realize that he had pressed himself hard against the side of the lockers in front of him, desperate for friction on his own arousal.    
  
Rafa shifted, taking a moment to look down at Feliciano, before moving his head to rest on Fernando’s other shoulder.  Fernando was quick to switch his hands, making sure to keep a hand over Rafa’s mouth, as if he knew well how loud he would be.    
  
Rafa’s eyes were closed tight in bliss and his head had rolled to the side, now facing Roger.    
  
Feliciano had moved his own free hand into his own shorts and was pumping hard, while Fernando was watching Feliciano intently from over Rafa’s shoulder.  Rafa’s hands clawed at the smooth surface of the lockers behind him and Fernando, scrabbling for purchase.  He was starting to moan louder and Fernando’s grip on his mouth visibly tightened, knuckles turning white.  
  
Rafa’s eyes opened and Roger almost yelped in mortification as he stared right at him.  Rafa’s dark eyes widened and for one horrible moment Roger was sure that he was caught, that Rafa would inform his friends/captors.  But then Rafa’s eyes rolled back into his head and a long, gorgeous moan bled through Fernando’s fingers.  
  
Rafa had seen Roger watching them, watching as the two other Spaniards simultaneously fucked and sucked him, and had immediately come to orgasm.  
  
Roger’s legs belatedly responded to the impulse to flee and he ran.  Flat out ran, not caring how his feet made noise on the floor, his hamstrings screaming at him, until he reached his own lockers.    
  
Collapsing onto a bench, breathing hard, mouth dry, Roger did the only thing he could do; it barely took him three whole strokes before he came hard into his own hand.


End file.
